


the art of making a bouquet

by nautilics



Series: SASO 2017 Fills [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Gen, passive-aggressive flower bouquets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilics/pseuds/nautilics
Summary: Futakuchi shakes his head, his long fringe flicking from the motion. “Long story short, I need to passively aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flowers."Osamu pauses. “What?”





	the art of making a bouquet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 1: AUs | Originally posted [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/21522.html?thread=10875154#cmt10875154).
> 
> Composition of a 'fuck you' bouquet from [this post](http://koscheiis.tumblr.com/post/145738369188/flower-shop-au).

It's nearing four in the afternoon when a customer strides into the store, glancing past the display of succulents by the entrance, ducking under the grape ivy hanging baskets, and brushing against a cluster of unopened lily buds before coming to a stop at the counter, where Osamu has spread the day’s edition of the _Kobe Shimbun_ across the the entire surface and is in the middle of examining an advertisement for a new flavour of ice cream. 

The customer slaps a ten-thousand yen note right over _‘limited time only!’_ with such force that the yellow freesia cutting by the cashier—Atsumu’s choice of the day—shudders in its glass of water. Osamu looks up.

“I’m looking for some flowers,” the customer says.

Osamu shifts the freesia away from the counter’s edge, and thinks about asking the customer to use his eyes. Out loud, he says, “For what occasion, sir?”

The customer visibly blanches. “Ugh, ‘sir’ _—_ it’s Futakuchi. And it’s not a special occasion, it’s for a guy.”

“Well, Futakuchi-san,” Osamu says in his most polite tone, “we have a large range of bouquets that you can choose from.” He tugs at the edge of the newspaper discreetly, but Futakuchi’s hand is still firmly rested on the counter. “Does he have a favourite colour?”

“How should I know?” Futakuchi shakes his head, his long fringe flicking from the motion. “Anyway, no, not like that. This guy’s a total asshole and insults are useless against him. Half the time, he doesn't even realise you're insulting him.” He huffs, which blows his fringe out of his eyes. “Long story short, I need to passively aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flowers."

Osamu pauses. “What?”

“I saw someone do it online. You can do it, right?”

He hears the faint sound of snickering from the back room, which means that Atsumu’s listening and definitely not doing accounts like he’s _supposed_ to be doing. 

“Most people don’t know flower language. It’ll probably just look like nice flowers to him,” Osamu says, meaning, _I have no idea what you’re talking about._

“Don’t worry, this guy’s a complete plant nerd.” Futakuchi pulls a face. “And disgustingly smart, in a way. He’ll figure it out.”

Osamu changes tactics. “Depending on the complexity of your request, Futakuchi-san, the price range of a custom bouquet can vary quite a lot.”

Futakuchi waves the ten-thousand yen note in the air. “I got paid yesterday. He told me that I was ‘wasting my potential’. Trust me, revenge against that jerk is worth it.” The snickering from the back room increases.

Osamu casts a very obvious look at the clock. “I will have to check our queue of orders for the afternoon, Futakuchi-san, and see if we can fit in your request for today.”

Futakuchi raises an eyebrow. “Right, in between your very important newspaper-reading sessions, yeah?” The sarcasm drips off his voice; petty _and_ perceptive, Osamu notes.

Atsumu, of course, chooses this moment to appear from the back room. “Oi, ‘Samu.” Futakuchi visibly starts, looking between Osamu and his twin behind him. “C’mon, this is too good to turn down. You've got nothing better to do anyway.” 

Osamu doesn't need to turn in his seat to see the smug grin on Atsumu's face. He does so anyway, so he can glare at him. Atsumu smiles sunnily, unaffected as always, and drapes an arm over his shoulder. 

“Don't worry, Futakuchi-kun. ‘Samu here is an expert in passive aggression _—_ ow, I mean, in making bouquets that will tell your special someone _exactly_ what you're feeling.” Futakuchi tries to protest that, but Atsumu _—_ as he does _—_ talks over him. “You're in good hands, promise~!”

Osamu suppresses a sigh and stands up, shrugging off Atsumu. “C’mon,” he says to Futakuchi. “Let's see what I can do for you, Futakuchi-san.”

 

-

Futakuchi eyes the cluster of flowers critically.

“Can we make the disappointment flowers stand out a bit more? I really want to make that clear, you know?”

Wordlessly, Osamu adds another cutting of yellow carnations, tucking it behind the frothy sprays of meadowsweet. He adjusts the lilies too, to balance it out. The orange and yellow make a very pleasing combo, filled out around the edges by the meadowsweet and enhanced by the delicate white bells of the foxglove and the soft blooms of the geraniums. 

As far as ‘fuck you’ bouquets go, it's quite beautiful. Anyone would be pleased to receive an arrangement like this.

Futakuchi nods. “Cool. Just as a last jab, can you use a purple wrapping paper for it? It's his favourite colour.”

This time, Atsumu doesn't even try to hide his laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Flower notes:  
> \- geraniums (stupidity)  
> \- foxglove (insincerity)  
> \- meadowsweet (uselessness)  
> \- yellow carnations (you have disappointed me)  
> \- orange lilies (hatred)


End file.
